The Ghosts of You and Me

We drove around this place all night
past closed signs and familiar sights
we're moving by, passing time
counting those centre lines
with 20,000 lines left to go
that lead to somewhere I don't know
it might be the time that we leave this all behind

Prologue

Outside it was drizzly. Not quite dry, not quite raining; just the right amount of precipitation to keep one's hood up, or a Muggle's windshield wipers in motion. It was the kind of weather most people loathe, but Draco Malfoy found it enchanting, maybe serene as he sat inside The Tiny Tankard pub. The drizzle landed lightly on the window-pane, almost as though it were just trying to peer inside.

Inside it was warm. The kind of warm you have at Christmas time that only comes with a sweater, hot cocoa, and the company of someone you love. The Tiny Tankard was decorated in style with calming colors of taupe and brown. Each color was in intricate swirls designing the walls. The art deco chairs at the bar were most uncomfortable without the charm that had to be applied each day.

Draco sipped the cocoa he had in his hand, and made a face. It was too sweet. Across the table sat a woman with her cloak hood on as if she didn't want to be recognized. She glared at him silently for a moment.

"You came here to talk, so talk," she said suddenly. Draco looked at her through his eyelashes and gave a coy smile. Looking into her eyes brought back a series of images all at once.

The Quidditch Cup, in all of its glory in the hands of his nemesis for the last time, his mother weak and hospitalized, and finally the blood, the blood that would forever be part of him... He shuddered at the thought and looked up into the woman's eyes.

She'd thought of the same thing, he was certain. Her eyes were the mirror to her soul, and he had seen what she had.

"Take off your cloak, love," Malfoy said gently.

"Is this a safe place to talk?"

"Do you have a better place?" he asked rhetorically. She shook her head 'no' slowly. Draco reached across the table and took her hands into his.

"I know this is hard for you. It is for me too."

"That's an understatement," she hissed. "Do you have any idea what I went through?"

"Pain, confusion, depression; you had no idea what to do anymore. Cut off from everything you had ever known with little or no explanation, it cut you as a knife could cut. That's why you have these," he flipped her wrists over and saw the scars of a knife. "What did you do? Bring yourself to a Muggle hospital, or try to cover it up when you didn't die?"

She pulled her hands away as though she'd been burnt.

"That is none of your business," she glared.

"It isn't? Funny, I remember a time when it was." He smirked.

"That was a long time ago, it doesn't matter now."

"Ten years is not a very long time in the grand scheme of things. Does it matter, now? Why else would you have agreed to meet me? It seems you haven't changed too much over the years. Still trying to fool yourself and everyone around you, it doesn't work. Your eyes betray you, they are the mirror to your soul," Draco said quietly.

"What would you know about souls, I thought you didn't have one, or have you developed one recently?"

"Don't be unkind, it's not flattering. I came here to tell you something of importance. You're going home."

"Ho--home?" she managed to croak out, "How would you know, why would you be sent to tell me, what else happened?"

"Calm yourself! Do you want to attract attention? Not that your cloak didn't prevent that," he said sarcastically.

Not much had changed over the years as was immediately visible. Draco was still a tall, lanky, aristocratic looking blond. She was the same too, he was certain. Under that hood was the beautiful, loud yet shy, young woman he once knew.

"If I could turn back time," he muttered.

"Pardon?" she questioned.

"Sonny and Cher, remember?" he smiled.

"How could I forget," she said, smiling back. "Seeing you brings back various memories. Some I'd rather not re-live." He nodded.

"Home," she sighed, "I have been dreaming of this for ten years."

"We must talk first. The ministry needs to know everything," he said apprehensively.

"You're working for the ministry," she asked, wide-eyed.

"Yes," he chortled. "Who would have thought?" There was a moment of un-strained silence.

"I would have. Back then, at least."

"I imagine you would have." They each smiled, all unease of their meeting vanished from the room.

"Shall we start?" Draco asked. She nodded. This was going to be a long, hard day...